


I will try to fix you

by saxophonesandcuesticks



Category: Youtube (RPF)
Genre: Alternate universe- Normal people, Depression, Fuckin Christ this is rlly angsty omfg, M/M, Sean's ex is a major bitch in this fic tbh, Self-Harm, Thoughts of Suicide, break-up, major angst, no youtube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saxophonesandcuesticks/pseuds/saxophonesandcuesticks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean's girlfriend broke up with him in the worst way possible, leaving him in shattered pieces. But can Mark get to Sean and put him back together before something goes horribly wrong?</p><p>Inspired by Fix You by Coldplay</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pain and Blood

Sean watched the hard rain pour in sheets and thunder against the window, the weather playing out the deafening, swirling, raging emotions in his heart and mind. His...now ex girlfriend had accidentally sent him an inappropriate photo, and apologized, telling him it was for someone else. And if _that_ didn't already crush his heart enough, she went off on him, calling him horrible things and cursing his channel through text messages, blaming his friends for stealing him from her. That's when his already battered walls came crashing down and after throwing his phone across the room he buried his face in his pillow and sobbed.

After a good ten minutes of sobbing into the battered feather down pillow, his mind thought of the blade he kept in his medicine cabinet that hadn't been used in at least four years. At the moment, the thought of the slicing pain to put his mind at ease seemed all too appealing. He'd just wear long sleeves until the angry red marks healed like he used to do. Sean thought about it for a while, and the physical pain had always been able to clear his mind enough to sleep, so he got up and trudged to the bathroom and got a good look at himself in the mirror. Her texts came back to haunt him...

_Ugly....._

_Boring....._

_Stupid....._

_The worst relationship of her life....._

_......._

_A waste of space.........._

Soft, silent tears streamed down his face at the last one and he opened the cabinet, finding the razor easily. The first cut was made, the sharp blade peeling apart his skin effortlessly, letting out his lighter scarlet blood and dulling the edges of the storm in his mind. The first few drops slid down the soft curve of his forearm, their tainted journey ended in the small porcelain sink, Sean's blank gaze following their every move, and almost instantaneously felt the urge to add to the lone slit on his wrists, so he did.

One by one he added marks, evening their numbers on both sides, the pain in his heart dulled significantly, which left only the numbing physical pain radiating from his wrists. When he was finished, he wrapped them in gauze and washed off the blade before putting it away.

The blade helped, but when he was done he felt numb to everything. Sean felt as though he wasn't entirely himself, like he was he was in a dull, grey dream. His body didn’t feel like his own, and he now felt useless to everyone.

Hell, who would want someone who hurt themselves to just feel _something_ beside the numbing emotional pain raging in his heart and soul. It was unnatural, and it made him a masochistic freak unworthy of love from anyone.


	2. Chapter 2

Nightmares.

They consumed his head when he slept. Well, if he could sleep. Sean usually didn't because of the graphic, horrifying images that flashed behind his eyes, haunting him wherever he went.

Blood, broken bones, ground rushing up to meet him, wailing sirens, bright lights, and pain. Oh god the pain. But the gruesome truth at the heart of it all?

They were memories.

You see, at about 18, he had an abusive partner who thought it was okay to belittle him mentally and emotionally, as well as beat him. Sean saw no end to her reign of terror, do he lept off the balcony to her second story apartment in the middle of the night while she was at work babysitting the kids next door. Someone walking their dog happened across Sean's barely conscious figure lying in an unnatural position on the sidewalk about fifteen minutes later and immediately dialed 911. Paramedics arrived in the nick of time, rushing him to the closest ER just barely managing to save his life.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

One morning, Sean didn't want to leave his bed for anything. But he'd been off of social media for weeks so he needed to check that as well as add to the growing aisles of angry red lines on his forearms.

He trudged over to the area where he initially threw his phone when he got The News and checked the notifications. Nearly two hundred text messages and missed calls from his friends Mark and Daithi, but only fifty were from Daithi, as if he eventually noticed Sean wasn’t on any social media at all recently. But Mark noticed real quick. His messages started the day after he was dumped and they started off calm, but with each day became filled with more and more panic, with worry and concern right alongside it;

Mark: _Hey jackaboy_

_Jack?_

_Sean, where are you, you always text me back....._

_Now I’m starting to worry, where the hell are you?_

_................_

_Please let me know you’re alright........_

_SEAN ANSWER THE PHONE please.........._

_PLEASE, ANSWER THE PHONE I NEED TO KNOW YOU’RE ALRIGHT_

_SEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_If you don’t answer right now, I am coming to find you myself_

.............

S-someone actually cared that much? Sean stared at the messages in utter disbelief, who would care enough to worry about him? He wasn’t worth the effort to provide compassion for......

Jack shook his head, Mark wasn’t being serious, was he? Would he really come to Sean’s home? The Irishman doubted it. He shook his head and set his phone on his dresser and tiredly shuffled his way towards the bathroom, pulling his sleeves up to the elbow, exposing his battered and red wrists.

When he was in the restroom, he found the silver blade and made a few more notches, feeling the weight on his shoulders lighten, if only a little. Each scarlet drop slid into the sink and slid slowly down the drain, followed by two more. A few songs he heard recently played through his head as he added lines, one of them standing out the most;

_In the dark_   
_And I’m right on the middle mark_   
_I’m just in the tier of everything that rides below the surface_   
_And I watch from a distance seventeen_   
_And I’m short of the others dreams of being golden and on top_   
_It’s not what you painted in my head_   
_There’s so much there instead of all the colors that I saw_

_We all are living in a dream,_   
_But life ain’t what it seems_   
_Oh everything’s a mess_   
_And all these sorrows I have seen_   
_They lead me to believe_   
_That everything’s a mess_

_But I wanna dream_   
_I wanna dream_   
_Leave me to dream_

_In the eyes_   
_Of a teenage crystallized_   
_Oh the prettiest of lights that hang the hallways of the home_   
_And the cries from the strangers out at night_   
_They don’t keep us up at night_   
_We have the curtains drawn and closed_

_We all are living in a dream,_   
_But life ain’t what it seems_   
_Oh everything’s a mess_   
_And all these sorrows I have seen_   
_They lead me to believe_   
_That everything’s a mess_

_But I wanna dream_   
_I wanna dream_   
_Leave me to dream_

_I know all your reasons_   
_To keep me from seeing_   
_Everything is actually a mess_   
_But now I am leaving_   
_All of us were only dreaming_   
_Everything is actually a mess_

_We all are living in a dream_   
_But life ain’t what it seems_   
_Oh everything’s a mess_   
_And all these sorrows I have seen_   
_They lead me to believe_   
_That everything’s a mess_

_But I wanna dream_   
_I wanna dream_   
_Leave me to dream_

_I wanna dream_   
_I wanna dream_   
_Leave me to dream_

 -:-:-

It took a while but he was soon done, letting the cuts dry and clot before he pulled down his sleeves.

That's when he heard someone furiously pounding at his front door. Sean nearly jumped out of his skin, but luckily he was still dressed, so he went and answered it to find..........

"M-Mark????"


	3. I am Without a Heart and the Space has been Broken (Sneak Peek)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark finds out a gruesome truth about why his best friend was gone for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hindsight is telling me that this chapter is gonna be pretty long so here's a sneak peak ^^

"M-Mark.....?" He stammered, taking a few steps back only to be followed and pulled close to the hard chest belonging to the American. Warm tears hit the shoulder of Sean's grey hoodie and strong arms wrapped around him, warming his too thin body and grounding him in the most comforting way possible. "Goddamnit........You had me so fucking worried......" Mark murmured softly, nuzzling Jack as though he were affirming himself that Sean was here, and alive.

"Wh-what are ya doin here Mark?"

"I had to make sure you were alright. Sean, you were gone for almost a month and I had no idea what happened." Mark replied, pulling back to look at him, not realizing that his arms pressing on the sore cuts on the other's wrists caused Jack to wince. "Sean, are you alright?"

"Yeah, just openin a box ma sent and I did a stup, cutting myself on accident." The lie was heartbreakingly easy to say and Sean hated that.

"Both wrists?"

"No, the ot'er has a burn on it."

"Let me look."

"N-no, s'fine Mark, bandages and ointment work wonders. A-amirite?" Mark, now getting increasingly worried, held Sean's right elbow tight enough so he couldn't wriggle out of the grip and pulled the sleeve back and felt a large pit form in his stomach at the sight of Sean's arm littered with ugly, red lines stretching from the wrist and quite possibly stopping at the elbow.

Meanwhile, Sean was squirming uncomfortably and trying not to bawl his eyes out in front of the other. Why did Mark of all people had to see this???

"S-Sean, talk to me."

"N-no......" Why would he want to talk? The reasons he has for doing this will cause Mark to leave cause he'll know the truth. Sean was ugly, terrible, and a waste of space. Why should anyone care about him?

"Sean, you don't have to go into detail, I just want to know why......"

"B-but y-you'll leave me if I do......"

"No I won't. Trust me." Sean sighed and sniffled, shaking his head. "F-fine.....but ya might wanna sit down....." Mark just nodded, sitting down on the couch. The Irishman followed, wondering why the hell this perfect man would want to listen to his useless sob story? But he sat opposite of Mark, and while looking at the floor, told Mark what happened the fateful night.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Mark saw nothing but red as Sean told his story. In turn though, his anger was rightly justified. That whore had absolutely no reason talking to this poor soul like that. Jack didn't do anything but love her unconditionally, and the way she went about this was wrong, and it made the American furious to no end. When Sean was done, Mark wiped away some of the tears from those beautiful baby blues, "C'mere." He mused with soft tenderness to his baritone voice. Reluctantly, Sean followed the order and crawled into Mark's arms, sobbing into his chest once he was gently pulled close.


	4. I am without a heart and the space has been broken (Full Chapter)

"M-Mark.....?" He stammered, taking a few steps back only to be followed and pulled close to the hard chest belonging to the American.

Warm tears hit the shoulder of Sean's grey hoodie and strong arms wrapped around him, warming his too thin body and grounding him in the most comforting way possible. "Goddamnit........You had me so fucking worried......" Mark murmured softly, nuzzling Jack as though he were affirming himself that Sean was here, and alive.

"Wh-what are ya doin here Mark?"

"I had to make sure you were alright. Sean, you were gone for almost a month and I had no idea what happened." Mark replied, pulling back to look at him, not realizing that his arms pressing on the sore cuts on the other's wrists caused Jack to wince. "Sean, are you alright?"

"Yeah, just openin a box ma sent and I did a stup, cutting myself on accident." The lie was heartbreakingly easy to say and Sean hated that.

"Both wrists?"

"No, the ot'er has a burn on it."

"Let me look."

"N-no, s'fine Mark, bandages and ointment work wonders. A-amirite?"

Mark, now getting increasingly worried, held Sean's right elbow tight enough so he couldn't wriggle out of the grip and pulled the sleeve back and felt a large pit form in his stomach at the sight of Sean's arm littered with ugly, red lines stretching from the wrist and quite possibly stopping at the elbow.

Meanwhile, Sean was squirming uncomfortably and trying not to bawl his eyes out in front of the other. Why did Mark of all people had to see this???

"S-Sean, talk to me."

"N-no......" Why would he want to talk? The reasons he has for doing this will cause Mark to leave cause he'll know the truth. Sean was ugly, terrible, and a waste of space. Why should anyone care about him?

"Sean, you don't have to go into detail, I just want to know why......"

"B-but y-you'll leave me if I do......"

"No I won't. Trust me."

Sean sighed and sniffled, shaking his head. "F-fine.....but ya might wanna sit down....." Mark just nodded, sitting down on the couch. The Irishman followed, wondering why the hell this perfect man would want to listen to his useless sob story? But he sat opposite of Mark, and while looking at the floor, told Mark what happened the fateful night.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Mark saw nothing but red as Sean told his story. In turn though, his anger was rightly justified. That whore had absolutely no reason talking to this poor soul like that. Jack didn't do anything but love her unconditionally, and the way she went about this was wrong, and it made the American furious to no end. When Sean was done, Mark wiped away some of the tears from those beautiful baby blues, "C'mere." He mused with soft tenderness to his baritone voice.

Reluctantly, Sean followed the order and crawled into Mark's arms, sobbing into his chest once he was gently pulled close.

"That's it." Mark cooed softly as he held Jack close, letting the smaller man be wrapped up in something so much more tender and gentle than the cold, harsh reality of being alone. Mark was here, and more importantly, wanting to comfort the battered, broken being he held close to his chest. Jack quite honestly had no clue why the Raven-haired man embracing him wasn't running away at the words She used to describe him. Little did he know that a white hot, righteous fury was boiling away within the American, he just pushed it to the backburner in favor of rubbing the smaller man's back and petting his hair as soft, sweet baritone words were cooed into his ear, telling him how wrong She was, and how kind and caring Jack was.

A part of him wanted to believe it, but the evidence he'd stacked against himself in his head was really damning. Instead he settled with leaning his head against Mark's toned chest and listening to his heart beat strongly, the soothing sound finally lulling him into quite possibly, the best sleep hes had in weeks.

At the sight of Jack finally looking so peaceful in his sleep, that fury he pushed to the back of his mind burbled in him with renewed vigor as he recalled what that slut called the peaceful angel curled up in his lap. She was definitely going to get a piece of Mark's mind. And metaphorically (because he is a gentleman mind you), his fist. But first, he needed to stay with Sean for awhile and make sure that the Irishman wouldn't add anymore lines on his arms. Mark couldn't, and wouldn't live with himself if Sean did, or if something worse happened to him.

No one deserved that guilt, especially when something could've been done to prevent it.

Gingerly, he stood, cradling Sean in his arms and took him to bed. Mark made sure to situate the smaller man so that Sean was laying on his chest and listening to the americans heartbeat.

Once he made sure they were both covered under the plush duvet, Mark slowly drifted off, his arm draping around Sean's back and gently holding him there.


End file.
